


The Mischief and the Mischievious

by crimsondusts



Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Chaos, F/M, Fluff, Partners in Crime, partners, this is gonna be for a very niche audience get ready
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsondusts/pseuds/crimsondusts
Summary: This is the story of a boy and a girl.Actually, it’s a lot less simple than that.More accurately, this is the story of a psychotic clownette who gets kicks out of stealing jetpacks and harassing a man dressed as a Bat, and the Norse God of Mischief.Oh yeah. This crossover is definitely happening.This might be one of the nichest ships out there but I blame my old rp partner for getting me hooked on these two when we made these storylines together a few years back. These chapters are heavily influenced by hers and my plots, with a little extra stuff thrown in to connect em all up and some new stuff too, just to add some spice. I’ve fallen into a Harley x Loki rabbit hole again so what better way to get it out of my system then to revisit the glory days?Harley is pre-New 52, Loki is pre-Ragnarok in the beginning. Both are Very AU so keep that in mind also.
Relationships: Loki/Harley Quinn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Is It A Bird?

**Author's Note:**

> call this chapter a tester sksjsk
> 
> it's an obscure ship. i know. you'll either like it or you won't. i'm mostly writing this for myself and my old rp parnter to bask in the glory days, but if i somehow manage to gain an audience from this as well, score!
> 
> dunno when i'll update this next, but i will keep writing this story. pop it in your bookmarks if you're interested to see the rabbit hole that this fic will end up being

Gotham. Loomy, gloomy Gotham. Always pouring down with rain, always dark and humid, always the smell of something on fire lurking around every corner. Harley wouldn’t trade this place for the world. It was an absolute dump, but it was the closest to home she had.

Also, she couldn’t afford to leave even if she wanted to.

She’d served her time in Arkham and been released a free woman. A sane woman, too. She had a certificate and everything to prove so! She was gonna go clean, she said. And she meant it. Her and Joker were over. Finished. Finito. Done for good. No more abuse from the green-haired, smiling hunk of an ex-boyfriend. Sure, she wasn’t all about that hero life, nor would she ever be (*cough* rebirth *cough*), but she could at least have a crack at being a regular citizen of society. She did it before, back when she was a psychiatrist. Why not now?

Harley had to admit, it was tough to find work when the whole city knew you as the Joker’s squeeze. EX-squeeze, Harley reminded herself, as she strolled along the dimly lit street en route to her crumby little apartment tucked away in one of the many dodgy backstreets of Gotham. Being the Joker’s henchwoman wasn’t all bad, she thought. At least she’d earned herself a reputation and a name among the lowlifes. People knew she wasn’t a gal to be challenged. She’d fought the Bat on plenty of occasions. Sure, she lost the majority of the fights, but she always put up a good challenge for him. If anything, he should be thanking her for being such a formidable opponent! At least she gave him a good workout whenever they bumped into each other on one of Joker’s escapades.

Suddenly, a flash of rainbow light covered the sky for less than a second; if you blinked you definitely would have missed it, if you were sane you would have passed it off as you seeing things. However, if your brains were a little scrambled from one too many electro-shock treatments like Harley, you would have stared up at the sky in absolute wonder.

“Guess I need to up my meds.” Harley mumbled to herself, eyes fixed on the light-polluted night sky. Seeing the occasional whacky sight wasn’t new for the blonde; hence the excessive electro-shock treatments. Or maybe it was the treatments that caused them in the first place.

Harley didn’t have any time to go into that fresh thought, because the next thing she knew, a flash of green shot down from the sky and a loud crash was heard a couple blocks north of where she stood. She didn’t move for a moment, blinking up at the spot in the sky where she saw the object fall. That was either the puniest meteorite she’d ever seen, or someone totally threw their huge, green fabric litter out an aeroplane window.

“It’s bad enough this city is full o’ trash. I mean honestly! How hard is it ta’ throw yer rubbish in tha’ bin?” Harls rolled her eyes and began walking toward where the object fell. Even if it was her mind playing tricks on her, she had to double check. Besides, she was headed that way towards her apartment. What was a little detour?

She reached the alleyway the object fell into and squinted into the darkness. It was hard to see, but she could hear the faint rustling of cans and cardboard being crushed as something, or someone, struggled to move around. Harley held the handle of her umbrella in a white-knuckle grip, prepared to use it as a weapon if absolutely necessary. Oh how she longed to hold her mallet again, or even her baseball bat…

No! She was done with that stuff! No more!

The object groaned softly and started to stand up, their appearance hidden by the shadows. Wait…it was a person that fell from the sky? Harley blinked at the figure, and then looked up at the sky. She definitely needed to up her meds.

“You.”

Harley’s head snapped back to the figure at the sound of his voice, sharp and dripping with authority. A pleasant shiver rolled down Harley’s spine. That voice would be amazing for ASMR.

“What…realm is this?”

She blinked at him. Realm? He was more cuckoo than she was! And his accent…was that British? Since when did British just people fall from the sky?

“Uh…Are you okay, Mister?” Harley took a careful step towards the figure. She could see the outline of his shoulder-length hair and his cape. So that was the flash of green, Harley guessed. Wait, was this another Super-freak? Oh God, please not in Gotham.

Harley groaned and rolled her eyes. “Look, if Supes sent’cha here ta’ patrol or whateva’…you can go back an’ tell ‘im that Gotham’s just fine.”

The figure said nothing. He just glared at her from the darkness and clutched his arm. Only Midgardians would be this stupid, he thought to himself.

Harls cleared her throat. “Sorry. Just…real sick o’ heroes jus’ showin’ up unannounced. Know what I mean?”

The man scoffed and shook his head. “Oh, yes. I’m very familiar with those…hero types.”

The way he said it…it made Harley think that this guy had a personal vendetta against them. Or at least against one. Good to know she wasn’t alone in her thinking.

“Yeah…well anyway, are you alright? I’m only a psychiatrist but I have a first aid kit at my place. I could patch ya’ up after yer…uh…” She swallowed. “…fall.”

The figure was silent for an excruciating amount of time; Harley wondered if he’d just mentally shut down or if he just wasn’t going to answer. Then, he slowly began walking…no, limping, toward her. When he finally reached a point where light shone onto his frame, only metres away from where Harley was standing, she couldn’t help but gasp softly.

He looked like a literal God.

His raven hair was slicked back and away from his face, soft curls resting on his shoulders. His outfit was black and green leather, with gold accents and an emerald green cape. And his face…gorgeously pale and a jawline sharp enough to cut you. His green eyes bore into her, looking deep in her soul and drawing all her deepest secrets out.

Harley silently stared at him. She stared hard enough that if she was Superman she would have burned a hole through his skull. He looked…awfully familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on where she’d seen him before.

Though, she figured, it should have been easy to remember such a chiselled, perfectly sculpted face.

Harley crossed her arms and furrowed her brows. “I swear I’ve seen you before.”

The man’s brows furrowed in return. Sure, it had been a while since he had been on Midgard but were they all this…aloof? Maybe they’d dumbed down even more since his last visit.

A sharp pain shot up his right side and he hissed, clutching the area with his left hand. Harley snapped out of whatever memories she was trying to scour through for the man’s face and her attention focussed in on the injury.

“Right, sorry. My place is just down tha’ road. Think you can make it that far?”

He wanted to snap at her. He was a God. The God of Mischief. And this mortal was asking if he’d be able to take a few measly steps? He took a breath to collect himself, and stared at her emotionlessly. “Yes, I will be fine.”

She gave him a once over, her brows creased in worry, before nodding. “Alright. If ya need a shoulder ta lean on, I’ve got two.” She grinned.

Again, he just stared at her. He was genuinely speechless. What a curious creature this one was. He’d never met a Midgardian like her before.

“Oh yeah,” Harley stuck out her hand with a grin. “I’m Harley, by tha’ way.”

The figure glanced down at her outstretched hand, then back up at her. He gave her hand a firm shake. “Loki. Son of Odin, Prince of Asgard…God of Mischief.”

Harley’s eyes lit up in realisation as soon as he said his name. So this was the guy who sent New York into an absolute frenzy with the alien army invasion. She remembered her Puddin’ being super pissed about how close he’d gotten to his plan succeeding.

“If that pompous pest ever shows his face around my city,” he grumbled, “I’ll give him so much laughing gas the whacko won’t know what hit ‘im.”

“So yer tha’ guy who tried ta’ take over New York.” Harley nodded, holding the umbrella out so it covered him. She was getting a bit of rain on her coat, but she didn’t mind. He looked like he needed the cover more than she did. “I gotta tell ya Mischief Man, that was certainly somethin’. Watchin’ them aliens comin’ down from that massive wormhole in the sky. We honestly thought we were goners.”

Loki had nothing to say. Not that he would have been able to think of anything. How was this woman so calm when talking about the possibility that all her freewill would have been diminished? She would have been a slave to him, to the Titan…but he failed. And now the Titan was after him, and his brother. That’s what The Other had said.

His brother. Thor. He needed to get back to Thor.

“Midgardian,” He said suddenly. Harley quirked a brow at him. Was he talking about her? “What…area is this?”

“You mean city?” Harley clarified. “This is New York’s shittier, more crime-ridden baby brother: Gotham.”

Gotham. Loki wondered where on the realm Gotham sat. If the blonde’s accent was anything to go by, he could safely assume he was back in the United States of America. Possibly on the East Coast. His nose scrunched up as the smell of garbage finally hit him. It certainly smelled as bad as New York.

Harley, noting his obvious discomfort, laughed at him. “I know. The stench is certainly one ta’ invade yer nose with absolutely no remorse.”

Loki glared at the mortal beside him. She was laughing at him? He could obliterate her with the snap of his fingers should he feel like it, and here she was openly laughing at a God? There was a small part of him that respected her for being so gutless, but he was still sure that Midgardians were among the dumbest creatures of the Nine Realms.

And this woman was living, breathing, chattering proof.

She caught his glare and stared him down. “Y’know, if ya keep starin’ ya might pop a blood vessel.”

Now he was truly speechless. “Wh-”

“I know when a fella’s makin’ eyes,” Harley smirked. “An’ yer not givin’ em ta me. I’m pretty sure yer about ready to blow my head up, right?”

Intuitive, Loki thought, yet also dangerously blunt. He wondered how much trouble her loose lips got her into on a daily basis. He was almost certain that most Midgardians were rather judgemental of this sort of behaviour.

Yet another minor detail that he couldn’t help but admire about the stranger.

They soon reached Harley’s complex and she led the way inside travelling up the flights of stairs and reaching her door. Right as she unlocked the door, Loki stumbled over his footing and Harley barely caught him before he tumbled on top of her. With a grunt, she helped him sand upright before forcing his arm around her shoulders for support. He opened his mouth to protest, but Harley shushed him.

“If ya don’t suck up yer ego fer two seconds, you’ll never make it to tha’ couch. Now come on.”

Loki didn’t have the energy to argue and instead let Harley carry him inside. He didn’t remember much after that, only that his body was practically shoved onto a cushioned surface and as soon as his head hit the surface, he was out like a light.

Harley, meanwhile, stared at the unconscious sack of meat hogging up her bed and huffed out a sigh, planting her hands on her hips.

“Well slap me on the back an’ call me Johnny.” She sighed. “Guess I’m takin the couch t’night.”

It was tonight especially that Harley was glad her apartment was a studio complex, with enough room to fit the bed just to the right of the front door, a lounge room to the left and a small kitchenette next to the lounge room. She yawned and grabbed the remote from the kitchen bench to turn on the news and, after sneaking a glance at Loki to make sure he was out of it, went to her wardrobe to change into her pyjamas.

Vicki Vale’s voice lulled around in Harley’s head, the blonde more focused on the melody of the reporter’s voice rather than what she was saying as she went into her ensuite to freshen up. When she was done, she then grabbed her first aid bag and went back to her bed, where the raven haired man was spread eagle on the mattress. She sighed and tied her hair up into pigtails.

“Awright. Let’s do this, Mischief Man.”

As delicately as she could, she felt around for any buttons, clasps or zippers to help her take his leather body suit off. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen; even Batman didn’t have anything this elegant. She doubted his Batsuits were anywhere this complex, either. Still, she managed to find the main zipper and slid it down his back. She sighed, knowing what she’d have to do to get it off of him, and made a silent prayer.

“Please do not let him wake up right now for tha’ love of all that is cheese.”

She crawled on top of Loki’s body and straddled him, reaching around his back to peel the leather suit away from his body. She held her breath as he shifted under her and groaned lightly in pain, but he didn’t wake. A sigh of relief left her lips as she gently thread his arms through the sleeved of his getup and shimmied it down to his waist. She couldn’t help but take a brief moment to admire his build; long, lean, and pale. Actually, it was strikingly similar to…

Harley shook her head to clear him from her thoughts. No more green-haired, smiling maniac on her mind. Not when she was trying to get clean. She was already doing so well: two months out of Arkham and not a single crime! Well okay, there was that one bus fare she didn’t pay for and that one cheese bun she stole from that douchebag who kept calling her names, but they were nothing compared to the heists she used to pull with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

Her eyes quickly darted to the mass of purple and blue bruising around his right ribcage. Harley winced softly and, while still straddling Loki, reached over to her first aid kit to grab her compression bandages. In the morning, she’d go off and get better stuff for his wounds but this was the best she had and if she learned anything from studying medicine, you had to wrap it before you could tap it.

Okay, so that’s not a saying. Point is that Harley knew wrapping injuries was more often than not a good idea.

As curious as she was to see what lie underneath the leather gathered at his waist, she refrained. She was a doctor, not a bloody pervert. And even though he was limping, she was almost certain it was from his rib injury.

Harley wiped her forehead with her forearm as she gently climbed off Loki’s lap. She had no idea what a God of Mischief could really do on his lonesome, but she was glad he didn’t wake up so she didn’t have to find out.

She recalled briefly, according to the footage that the news showed when he invaded New York, that he had some sort of a staff as a weapon. She remembered it was one of the many nights she was trying to coax Joker into bed with her, in her jester hat and her thin, red nightie; all the while he was just staring at the television screen. He grumbled and groaned, saying “Anyone could take over that measly city with an alien army. What a loser.”

Meanwhile, after Joker had left Harley on her own and slammed the door to his room and locked it so Harley couldn’t come in, she stared at the screen with the tiniest of smiles on her face. Watching the helicopter footage of a broad, muscular blonde man and the lean, raven-haired counterpart fighting with hammer and spear, Harley couldn’t help but root for the guy.

She’d always had a soft spot for the skinny ones.

By complete coincidence, at that exact moment, Harley turned to nonchalantly glance at what was being shown on screen. It was like a cartoon, the way Harley had to do a double take at the screen to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. Suddenly, Vicki’s voice invaded her head and she slowly approached her couch to sit down.

“…Used in the infamous ‘Invasion of New York’, the Chitauri Sceptre had been the subject of many almost successful robbery attempts to the New York Police Department, where it was being stored. Mayor Bill de Blasio had this to say:”

The screen cut to a press conference, with New York’s mayor front and centre on the stand. “The attempts of trying to obtain this weapon of mass destruction has left the state no choice but to pass it on to another holding state for the time being, until we can safely decide what can be done with the foreign weapon that caused so much destruction in the invasion attack in 2012.”

It cut back to Vicki Vale in the reporting studio, her expression and her voice stoic as ever. “It is rumoured that the infamous spear is being kept under maximum security in Gotham PD, under 24 hour security and is protected heavily with guards and machinery. Any of Gotham’s villainites would barely be able to breathe near it before getting riddles with bullet holes-”

That was enough for Harley as she switched the channel to late night cartoons. As she settled herself onto the couch, she stared up at the ceiling deep in thought. Vicki always was one for dramatics, but getting in and out of Gotham PD was almost as easy as sneaking around Arkham. Doctor Harleen Quinzel had spent her fair share of time in the police department, gathering extra information on patients or talking to officers about said patients. What stumped her most was the New York mayor’s decision to send the sceptre here. Gotham is about as safe as a jar of candy is to a group of energy-crazed toddlers. Most villains know the layout of the police department by now and there was no denying that Gotham’s police officers were overall, pretty shit at their jobs.

It stumped her as to why he’d choose the shitty New York doppelganger to send the spear to instead of literally anywhere else. Unless, of course, it wasn’t the mayor’s actual decision.

Which would mean one of her old villain pals was planning on stealing the spear for themselves.

Harley lifted herself up to cast a glance over at the unconscious man on her bed. Something told her he’d need that spear sooner rather than later, which meant she’d have to go and break it out of the police department for him.

She sighed and lied back down on the couch.

“Guess my reign of villainy isn’t quite over yet.”


	2. Monster in the Closet

Loki appeared in a dark cave, no exit in sight. It was almost pitch black, save for the glowing blue light coming from further in the depths of the cave. His heart lurched on instinct. He knew that blue glow anywhere. His lips twitched into a grin and he tread carefully towards the light to obtain his precious cube.

His tesseract.

When he could see it sitting out in the opening, he wasted no time and ran to the cube, lifting it gently with two hands and sighing at the sight. Here it was, his ultimate treasure, back in his hands at last.

“You might want to leave that.”

He whipped his head around at the voice. The voice that had haunted his dreams and kept him from sleeping most nights. He couldn’t see the Titan, but Loki knew he was there. Holding the tesseract in one hand, he formed a glowing green orb of magic with his other, and it was bright enough to catch Thanos’ figure lurking in the shadows. The Titan began making his way over to the God, slowly, seeming to have all the time in the world.

Loki lifted his chin. “And if I don’t?”

Thanos gestured to the wall on his left. Loki’s gaze fell upon a slumped over figure being held up by chains. The figure looked bloody and beaten and was almost beyond recognition, until he mustered the strength to lift his chin and look his brother in the eye. “Loki…”

“Brother!” Loki whispered in shock. How had he been captured? Thor looked on the verge of death, and he could take a guess as to who was at fault. He glanced at Thanos, who wore an evil grin, and placed the cube back down softly. “Alright. You can have the tesseract…if you let my brother go.”

“Oh, Loki,” Thanos sighed with a shake of his head, “I thought you would have learned by now. You have no power to be demanding anything from me.”

As Loki turned back to his brother, he was instead met with the decapitated corpse of his brother hanging from the chains. He yelled in shock and jumped away. His heart thumped loudly in his ears. He caught movement in the shadows and as he turned, he found Hela, his elder sister, approaching Thanos’ side with an approving smile.

“Well done, Thanos.” She praised him, picking the tesseract up gently and examining it. “That makes two of five stones down. How delightful.”

Loki didn’t have any smart words to say and he sunk to his knees. His brother was dead, and it was all his fault.

“What should we do about her?”

Thanos’ voice cut through Loki’s clouded thoughts like a knife and he whipped his head around to the Titan and the Goddess. Suddenly having appeared in a cage beside them was Harley, shaking the bars and crying out to Loki for help. She was covered in dirt and dried blood, he wasn’t sure how old her injuries were. She looked so helpless, so weak, sniffling and staring at him like he would perform a miracle to help her.

But what could he do?

“Kill her.” Hela said with a shrug. “She’s of no use to us now.”

Suddenly, there was a giant boulder above Harley’s cage that was dangling by a very thin rope. “Loki!” Harley screamed, glancing up at the boulder with a terrified expression on her face. Loki forced himself up and began running to her, calling her name as he ran. She reached out to him and screamed his name once more before the boulder flattened her, and her blood splattered over his face.

Loki woke with a start, a short gasp leaving his lips as his vision began to clear. He was staring up at an off white ceiling, possibly with some water damage in the corner. He blinked up at the sight. Where was he?

Harley was sat on the couch, eating her cereal and watching her Saturday afternoon cartoons in peace. She heard Loki wake, and turned her head to check on him. She gave him a cheerful grin and greeted him. “Mornin’!”

The God struggled to sit himself up on the mattress, breathing heavily through his nose to try and ease the pain. It was inconvenient, him getting hurt like this, because it would push any plans he initially had back a day so his body could heal. He was lucky that his body was quicker to heal than most, but he still found it annoying that he wasn’t completely immortal.

He made eye contact with Harley and watched as she grinned wider at him in acknowledgement, then turned back to the television.

Why had she appeared in his dream? They had met mere hours ago, by complete chance. Loki closed his eyes and tried to remember how he’d gotten to where he was. Right, Hela had pushed him out of the Bifrost and he’d crash landed back on Midgard, in a city called Gotham. A mortal woman, Harley, offered her assistance and helped him back to her residence where he then passed out from his injury. He glanced down and his eyes widened at his bare chest, save for the bandage wrapped around his middle.

Had she…undressed him?

Harley turned back around and saw Loki staring down at the bandage. “Yeah, I’m real sorry about that. I had ta’ get that leather get up off ya so I could get the bandage around ya wound. B-but I only dragged it down to yer waist! I promise I’m no perv.”

Loki’s gaze slowly rose to meet Harley’s. She was being sincere, that much he could tell, but he couldn’t understand why. Why would a mortal woman be helping the same God who tried to force humanity to submit to him as a ruler? She knew very well who he was, yet she seemed…impressed by him, rather than frightened or disgusted.

Who was this woman?

“Oh, speakin’ of wounds…” Harley jumped off her couch and, after placing her empty bowl in her sink, grabbed the new compression bandage and walked over to Loki. “Time for a re-wrap.”

Loki blinked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

Harley rolled her eyes and went down on her knees, reaching for Loki’s bandage before he could protest. “Well, while you were here snorin’ away on my bed, I went out to tha’ pharmacy ta’ grab a new bandage since this one is however-many-years old and your injury looked pretty damn seriou-”

Harley blinked rapidly at the sight before her. She’d undone the bandage from around Loki’s abdomen and the injury was mostly healed. There was still a bit of purple in the middle, but the bruising was starting to turn green and yellow, which signified that it was healing fast. Faster than any injury Harley had ever seen.

“Um…is that…normal?”

Loki continued to gaze at the woman who was invading his personal space and touching his bare torso without so much as a care in the world. If a mortal had done this to him while he was invading New York, he would have obliterated them completely. Why didn’t he mind that this mortal was so close to him? Why did he actually appreciate this woman’s assistance?

Harley tore her gaze from the magical wound and looked up at Loki. “Uh, hello? Mister Mischief Man? Answer, please.”

“Yes,” Loki said, without missing so much as a beat. Harley was taken aback from the forcefulness of his tone, “Asgardians have more durable bone and muscle structure to mortals, so it takes far more impact for us to be hurt and less time for our injuries to heal.”

Harley nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. Man, they do not teach ya enough in medical school.”

She sighed and reached for the new compression bandage and, without waiting for Loki’s permission, began wrapping it around his torso. She was thankful that he was sitting up now, because it was a lot easier to do this without having to sit on his lap. Not that she didn’t mind straddling him before, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

If only she knew that Loki could read any soul’s secrets like an open book. He was the God of Lies, after all. Anyone thinking they could hide a secret from the God of them was as foolish as one could be.

“How did you get that last bandage on me?” Loki questioned innocently, hiding his smirk with a look of question. Harley’s throat dried up. How the hell was she going to yap her way around this one?

Short answer? She couldn’t. Not with the God of Mischief.

“It was a struggle, I’ll tell ya that for starters.” Harley chuckled nervously, tucking the tail of the bandage in the top and securing it to his abdomen. “And just remember, you were dead asleep and I didn’t wanna wake ya so…I…”

Harley trailed off as her eyes shifted to her wardrobe. A surge of panic shot through her veins as she caught sight of her jester hat, hanging off the corner of the coat hanger that held her precious jester costume.

Loki noticed her sudden intrigue with something behind him. He watched her as a mild panic started to show on her features. Ah, so this was the big secret he could feel that she had hidden away in that scatterbrain of hers. How exciting.

“...um...a, uh...magician...never reveals...her secrets…” Harley said absentmindedly, before slowly standing as to not seem suspicious, making her way to her wardrobe, and shutting the door with a tad too much force.

Loki watched on in amusement as Harley tried to act natural, but only made herself seem more suspicious in the eyes of the God. He stood up and waved his wrist, a green light discarding the leather outfit for an all-black suit, and made his way over to Harley. If she hadn’t have been so stressed, she would have made a comment on Loki’s magic abilities.

“Now, now, Harley,” He teased, “Don’t tell me you’re hiding a monster in your closet.”

She would have conked him then and there had he not been a literal God, and the God of Lies would be able to sniff her fib from a mile away. So instead, she crossed her arms and leant against the door with a stiff shrug.

“Wh-whaddya talkin’ about? Psh! Silly! Th-there’s no monster in ‘ere.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, but the fact she was on edge didn’t do anything to help the shake in her voice. Loki, however, enjoyed how nervous she was under his gaze. He stood in front of her and reached for the doorknob, but Harley slid herself over so her body was covering it. Loki cocked a brow.

“No monster, hm?”

Harley didn’t say anything. She stared up Loki with a pleading gaze, silently begging him not to ask her about it. Loki ignored her look and crossed his arms. “Do you wish to show me or would you rather I had a look for myself?”

So he wasn’t going to let it go? Huh. Figures the God of Mischief wanted to bring her a little misery. She supposed he was going to find out some time anyway. It wasn’t like people didn’t know who she was or what she’d done. With a heavy sigh, she dropped her gaze and turned to face the door. She grabbed the doorknob.

“Just…don’t judge me, okay?”

Loki rolled his eyes. Mortals were an interesting kind. Their secrets were always so lacklustre; that didn’t mean Loki didn’t enjoy teasing them about it beforehand. However, this mortal was especially unique. He couldn’t begin to guess what kind of secret would cause her to react like this.

Harley sighed again. “Alright. Here goes.”

She opened her closet door and stepped aside for Loki to see. It took him a moment to connect what was causing her panic, and he cocked an eyebrow.

“Is that it?”

Harley rose her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised at his reaction. Maybe she was expecting him to laugh at her or…be scared? But why would he have been scared? He had no idea who she was.

He reached to touch the costume, the material smooth between his fingers. She was hiding a clown costume? At first glance, it seemed ridiculous. Why was she so protective of a clown costume? Maybe it explained why she was the way that she was. Why she was so different.

“A jester’s costume. Honestly, you were acting like you were hiding a bomb in here.”

“May as well be a bomb.” Harley grumbled. When Loki glanced at her with an amused smile, she reached past him and snatched the costume from the closet. “This costume is tha’ part o’ me that people don’t like. It’s the side that’s chaotic an’ reckless an’…an’…”

She started pacing in the space between her bed and her couch, staring at the costume in her hands. She suddenly stopped and looked up at Loki with a defeated sigh. “Guess it’s origin story time, huh?”

Normally, Loki would oppose to such useless, tedious activities, especially if they weren’t a necessity. However, this mortal was quickly growing on him, and he supposed an origin story may help him in understanding this complex creature. Who was she, really?

“By all means,” Loki sat himself on the edge of her bed and gestured for her to speak. “Let us hear the origin of The Jester.”

Harley furrowed her brows. A God like him shouldn’t be interested in something as measly as her, right? It made no sense. Why hadn’t he tried to leave? It’s not like someone like Harley could really match up to him in any sort of skill, so why was he staying? Maybe he couldn’t go home.

Not without some help.

With a deep breath to calm herself, she brought her stare back down to the costume in her hands. “Well…ironically, I started off as a psychiatrist.” She saw Loki’s confused expression and added, “Oh. It’s like a…um…a doctor who listens to yer mental problems and prescribes ya medication ta’ help ya deal with ‘em.”

Loki nodded silently. They didn’t have any of those on Asgard, at least to his knowledge. So there were mortals trained to help other mortals with their problems? How selfless. Stupid, but selfless nonetheless. Was that why she was this way?

“So anyway, I worked just over at Arkham Asylum. Got myself a session with one o’ tha’ most mysterious, dastardly, wicked men in the city. I’ll be honest; he was a large reason as ta’ why I wanted to work at Arkham and he was a real pain ta’ book a session with. Around these parts, they call him…‘The Joker’.”

Harley opted to ignore the way her heart rate instinctually spiked at the thought of her ex. She took Loki’s silence as a cue to continue. “So I start treatin’ this guy…an’ instead of solvin’ his whole mystery, I start fallin’ for him. Real hard. It felt…like a dream. This guy, who everyone said was an absolute psycho…actually listened to me! He…he cared what I had to say…”

She blinked quickly and shook her head. No more. “But anyway. So, I broke this guy outta the asylum. I actually got him out a few times before they caught me. When they did, I went on the run with him, changed my name, went from Doctor Harleen Quinzel ta’…” She found herself smiling at the costume fondly. “Harley Quinn.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Harley certainly was an interesting character. Started as the person sane enough to treat the insane, and ended up going mad herself. She either had a weak mind…or an incredibly strong one. Loki wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh at her or be impressed.

Harley lifted her head at the sound of slow clapping coming from Loki. He increased the speed of his clapping as he stood, and suddenly the sound was all around her. In the blink of her eye, Loki had created enough clones of himself to line the entire apartment. Harley laughed as she looked at each clone, catching one of them winking at her. After placing her costume on the back of her couch, she embraced the attention. She gave a dramatic bow and blew kisses to the crowd with a giggle. Loki dematerialised the clones until he stood alone and Harley sighed in relief.

“Well that was a better response than I expected.”

“It certainly explains a lot,” Loki hummed. “So this…patient of yours…is he¬-”

“Oh, no way. He an’ I aren’t together anymore.” Harley answered quickly. “He’s stuck in the looney bin and they released me for doin’ my time there. I’m as sane as any regular Gothamite. I have a certificate that says so!”

Loki supressed the urge to roll his eyes at that last part.

“Alright then, what’s your deal?” Harley lifted her chin at Loki, crossing her arms across her chest. “Ya fell from the sky. What’s up with that?”

She wanted an origin story? Huh, yeah right. Maybe a bit of simple magic would distract her from the question. With a smirk, Loki turned around and stood on the edge of Harley’s bed. As he lifted his arms in front of him, a green glow ran down his body and changed his clothes as it went down. His outfit went to another elegant green, black and gold getup; Harley quickly recognised it as the outfit he wore while he was in New York. There was a shimmer of gold above his head and the crown with the horns formed on his head. Harley stared agape the entire time.

Now he really looked like a God.

“I am Loki, of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

Harley glanced around her empty space. “Well I don’t have any clones to applaud ya so, uh…” Suddenly, the only logical thing to do to praise him popped in her head. With a smirk, she dropped to her knee and bowed to him.

“I’d get down on my knee for ya anytime, Mischief Man.”

She glanced up and shot him a wink as he grinned down at her. He stepped down from the bed and bent to place his finger under her chin. He brought her up from her knee, giving her a once over before pulling his finger back. “They say next to every king…is his jester.”

Harley gave him a wicked grin in return. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but feel like Loki was a sign from the universe. She was destined to cause chaos wherever she went. No amount of treatment would fix that.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Harley snapped her fingers, effectively resetting the mood between them. “Last night while you were out cold, I saw that they’re keepin’ yer sceptre in Gotham’s PD.”

“The Chitauri sceptre?” Loki clarified. Harley nodded. “It’s being kept here?”

“Yuh-huh! It’s locked up in high security over in the police department!” She said cheerfully. Loki didn’t understand why she was so happy. Didn’t ‘high security’ often mean that mortals like her would get obliterated if they were to attempt to touch it? He quirked a brow, which only caused her to grin wider. “Just ‘cause it’s high security doesn’t mean I dunno how ta’ get in and get outta’ there.”

Loki couldn’t stop the chuckle from coming out of his throat as he shook his head at her. “You are quite the enigma, Jester.”

Harley groaned, face palming herself. “Don’t compare me ta’ that freak. All about his riddles an’ junk…god. Whatta headache.”

“In breaking news tonight: The Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum!”

The blonde froze, her muscles going stiff. No. It…couldn’t be. How…? She turned slowly; staring at Vicki Vale’s panicked face on her television screen, fear running through her own veins at Vicki’s words. As if on autopilot, she made her way to the couch and sat down in front of the screen.

“Chances are his accomplice and partner, Harley Quinn, is involved with his escape-”

“Not this time, sweetcheeks.” Harley mumbled, her brain and body having gone into shut down.

Loki watched all this from his spot near the bed. He watched her go to the couch, the imaged flashing up on the moving screen. There was a picture of a man with bleach white skin, green hair and red lips. He looked like a clown. That must have been The Joker. And in his arms, laughing alongside him, was a red and black costumed jester with white face paint, a black eye mask and black painted lips.

Mortals were a strange bunch.

“We have ta’ go.” Harley said suddenly, standing and snatching her costume from the back of the couch. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her without so much as another word.

He could hear the rustling behind the door and presumed Harley was getting dressed, so Loki moved to the couch and stared at the moving screen. That clown was the man who had manipulated Harley? He was…a clown! How could a mortal man have had such power over someone else? Maybe mortals were capable of more than Loki gave them credit for.

Maybe ruling over them wouldn’t have been as delightful as he imagined.

The bathroom door suddenly burst open and Loki stood up from the couch, turning and raising his eyebrows at the sight. She looked just as the picture had shown; head to toe in a red and black jester’s outfit with the makeup and the eye mask. He watched her with a growing grin as she dug around in her closet and grabbed an oversized mallet.

As Harley got to the front door, Loki met her there as she opened it. “Do we have a plan?”

“Yeah,” Harley looked at Loki with a deadly serious gaze. “Get to tha’ sceptre before he does.”


End file.
